My Son
by pappy yokum's moonbeam
Summary: Pineas's biological dad decides he wants his son, forcing Phineas's family - especially Lawrence - into chaos and worry. Will Lawrence get his son back?
1. Realization

**(a/n) My second fanfic! I got the idea for this one watching my 'lil bro play chess. Hope you enjoy! Reviews would be nice.**

Leroy was hungover. Again. With each step he took, the pain in his head intensified, nearly knocking to his knees. He finally managed - by some miracle – to make it to the kitchen – and the blessed coffee pot. He put the beans in the filter and filled the pot with water; the perfect de-hangover-ifier. While he waited for the coffee to be ready, he thought he'd watch a little television.

Leroy had hardly had a day of sobriety since his wife had left with his little girl. Of course, he'd hardly had a day of sobriety before that, that was why she'd left, but it had just gotten worse after that. It wasn't his wife that he missed – at least not entirely – but Leroy thought if he had to go his whole life without seeing his daughter again, even just a glimpse, his life wasn't going to last that much longer.

Lost in his own thoughts, Leroy hadn't even noticed the story about a young boy in the tri-state area who had just won the Pennsylvania state spelling bee, but when he did notice, he also noticed something very familiar about that boy. Frowning, he began paying closer attention. Yes, definitely something familiar about him, though he couldn't quite place his finger on it.

"… parents are very proud of young Phineas." The news reporter was saying. The name Phineas brought back Leroy's nostalgia; that was always one of Linda's favorites. Speaking of Linda, there was her face. On TV. Staring him right in the face. "Yes, Lawrence and I are both very proud of our son. I had no doubt he would be able to win." She said, smiling.

Frowning harder, Leroy thought. Linda had obviously gotten remarried. This new boy, though, looked about ten. Too old to be this man's, unless she had been with him since before the divorce. No, Linda wouldn't. Then Leroy realized exactly what was so familiar about the boy; he looked just like Leroy.

_That's my son_. He realized with a start. That witch! How dare she! It was one thing to divorce him, leave him for the dogs, even take Candace away. But he had a son. A son! She never even bothered to tell him. He'd never even met the kid.

For a little while, he was so angry, so irrational, that he couldn't even think straight. Then the tiniest sliver of an idea, the craziest idea, began to enter his brain. Frightened of his own mind, he cast it away. But it stayed in the back of his mind, kept nagging him in way no idea ever had before, at least not since he was a kid.

Maybe, just maybe, the idea wasn't so crazy. After all, the kid had a right to know his real dad. In fact, the more Leroy thought about it, the better the idea seemed. Just a few of the details worked out, and he would have a plan, the perfect plan. He had a right to know his son after all. Yes, that was it.

He would take the boy.

**(a/n) okay, so that's chapter one up. Hoped you liked it so far, I'm not sure how long it will be before I update. Probably not too long, but I'm going out of state Saturday. I'll update before Saturday then, I promise! **


	2. Chills

**(a/n) So, here's chapter number two! Nothing too exciting yet, the real action won't come until later chapters. About three or four. But read and review!**

"Okay, so what your saying is Jeremy hates me?" Candace asked panicked. Ferb exchanged an exasperated glance with his little brother Phineas. They both loved Candace dearly, even when she came to them with 'problems' like this, but they really wished she wouldn't overreact like this.

Gritting his teeth and digging down deep for a last shred of patience, Phineas explained once again to his sister, "No, I don't think Jeremy hates you at all, I have no idea how he feels about you. Please, Candace, can you just go talk to mom about this? I imagine she's better at boy advice than your ten-year-old brothers." Candace huffed, but went inside anyway.

"Thanks dude, she was starting to get on my nerves." Ferb murmured quietly from beside him.

"You and me both bro, you and me both." Phineas replied. Their sister had been especially annoying as of late, stressed about Jeremy and the fact that the new school year was going to be starting soon. Of course, it wasn't the stress of getting good grades that had her stress on high, it was the thought of having to get a whole 'new' wardrobe, being at the top of the social chain, how popular she was going to be, and what new friends she was going to make. Phineas and Ferb rarely worried, much less about school. Their grades were near-perfect without even trying. It was hard to imagine how Candace had gotten this high-strung. "Maybe we should build something that would reduce her stress level." Phineas thought out loud.

Ferb laughed, giving Phineas a look that plainly said, "As if." Phineas knew precisely what he meant; no matter what anyone did, Candace would probably always stress out about every little thing thrown her way. They could only hope she would mellow with age.

They were sitting together under their favorite tree, trying to come up with something to make the most out of their last day of summer vacation, but for some reason Phineas just couldn't come up with any ideas, and Ferb wasn't the type for imagining it, just the kind to figure out how to bring ideas to life. That was the point of this team-up. So though Phineas racked his brains, he simply couldn't come up with anything. Ferb had noticed. Usually they had something in mind, on blueprints, and at least halfway done by lunch. It was now two o'clock in the afternoon, Baljeet, Buford, and Isabella had already come by expecting something exciting, but had quickly left in disappointment.

"Everything okay, bro?" Ferb asked. Phineas was pretty much the only one he ever talked to, and though he didn't like talking about feelings, he would do it for Phineas, and Phineas seemed off today.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm fine. But I'm sorry I can't come up with any ideas. Inventor's block, ya'know?" He snorted, then went back to thinking. He had to come up with something; he was making Ferb worry.

Deep down, though, something was wrong. Phineas couldn't shake the feeling that something or someone was watching, or that juvenile fear that something that goes bump in the night was going to get him. When it came to things like this, he was usually able to laugh it off or chalk it up to a creepy movie he'd recently seen, but this time the chill bumps on the back of his neck wouldn't go away. It was almost as if there was somebody waiting, watching and waiting, lurking in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to – Phineas mentally shook himself and gave a shakey laugh. He was being incredibly stupid. Nobody was there in shadows waiting. Nobody was going to jump out and say 'boo.' He was being stupid.

Little did Phineas know that he was not being stupid at all. There was somebody watching indeed, just through a small peephole in the fence. He had been waiting all day, looking at the pair of boys, watching for a moment when Phineas would be alone. It proved more tedious than he thought; the two boys were obviously very good friends. Wait, now the green-haired boy was going inside! This was his chance. He rose, shaking the soreness out of his legs, and moved towards the boy, now sitting alone under the wide oak.

**(a/n)So ends chapter two! I hope it was a decent cliff-hanger. Until next time!**


	3. Struggle

**(a/n) 4 probably isn't a whole lot of reviews, but it was for me! At least for the first two chapters. Now I'm excited. Thank you, you four that reviewed! I hope this chapter lives up, ya' know?**

Phineas closed his eyes and leaned back against the tree. Concentration. That was what he needed. Stinkin' ten-year-old brain. Attention span of a goldfish.

"Phineas?" His eyes sprung open. That definitely wasn't Ferb's voice. Or anyone he knew, for that matter. The first thing he saw was a man, sallow and smelly with the slightest hint of a beer gut. He had a five o'clock shadow that might have been growing into a proper beard, and his red hair was greasy and uncombed. In the split second it had taken for Phineas to take this disgusting man in, he had leapt up and begun backing away. Maybe he didn't mean him any harm, but maybe he did. No chance he was taking that chance.

"Phineas, I think you should come with me." The man's voice was almost gentle - pleading, even - but there was an underlying forcefulness to it that plainly told Phineas it was a demand, and nothing good would come of disobeying. Phineas wasn't about to go anywhere with whoever this was, but he also wasn't too keen on making him angry by voicing this particular thought. So he stood where he was, chewing on his cheek, racking his brains for ideas pertaining to getting out of situations like this, and watching the man with eyes wary of his every move. "Come on home with me, son." The beer-gutted brute repeated, the pleading note gone from his voice. He looked directly at Phineas, as if staring him down might persuade him to follow him, and there was something bordering insanity in his eyes.

Phineas began yet again to inch away from the smelly stranger; he was obviously crazy or mental in some way. _Maybe_, Phineas thought, _I can stall until Ferb gets back. Or maybe, if I could just get to the garden, I could use Mom's garden gnome as a weapon. Or I could make a quick break for the back door. Or maybe-_

_Wait_, son? _What?_ Phineas stared at the man in front of him. He knew Lawrence wasn't his real dad, and that his real dad was a drunk. He also knew he had red hair, precisely the same shade as Phineas's own (he had seen one picture, only one, that Candace had shown him once in secret) – and now that he came to think about it, precisely the same shade as this man's. This dim-witted dolt certainly _looked_ familiar in some way, as though Phineas had seen him long ago in a photograph, but dads didn't just come into their kid's backyard after ten years of not knowing them just to try and get that kid to come "home" with them. Did they? "I'm not your son." Phineas said uncertainly. "Don't call me that." And in any case, it didn't matter what this man wanted or what he said, Lawrence was Phineas's dad in way his biological father had never been, and he didn't plan on going anywhere with anyone that claimed to be his dad. Whether he actually was or not simply didn't matter.

A knowing, malicious grin spread across the man's face; it made Phineas feel as though an ice cube had just slid into his stomach. "Oh but I am Phineas. You and your sister both. But of course, you wouldn't know that, because your bitch of a mother never told you. Now, since I'm your dad, I've been patient with you, but children should respect their parents. I'm going to tell you one last time to come with me."

Phineas turned towards his house and started running, but the man grabbed his wrist and yanked him back, hard. Phineas felt something pop in his arm, so painful his eyes teared up and he cried out in pain. The man clamped a hand over his mouth, and Phineas struggled and fought against him. Biting down hard on his hand, Phineas tasted blood, but the man didn't let go or even let on that he was hurt. He began thrashing his feet backwards against the man's shins, and a grunt of pain told him he was causing at least a little bit of damage. The man clamped down harder on his mouth, so hard it hurt, and the index finger and thumb pinched his nose shut. _He's suffocating me_, Phineas thought with panic, and began fighting harder.

He could feel his elbows jabbing into the man's sides with every wild attempt to get free, his shoulder felt like it was about to come apart at the seams, and his lungs felt as if they were on fire. The adrenaline alone wasn't going to keep him going much longer; his vision was already getting fuzzy on the sides. He thrashed still harder, his lungs positively screaming for breath and his shoulder in near-unbearable agony. _No, _he thought as the world around him started to go grey and then black. His muscles each seemed to go numb, his arms felt large and heavy and the majority of his brain was telling him to sleep. He felt himself getting more and more tired the more he tried to struggle, and his feeble attempts weren't ever going to prevail. Through the haze now fogging his mind, he caught a glimpse of bright green hair and a fuzzy image of the terrified face of his brother, but he was so far away, and Phineas was losing his will to fight… It would just be so much easier to sleep… Yes, just go to sleep. Finally giving in to temptation, Phineas sank down into blissful darkness.


	4. Panic

**(a/n) Okay, because of all the wonderful drama and such from the last chapter, now we need to do what? That's right! Add MORE drama! This chapter is Ferb mostly… You know what? You can just read it.**

Ferb had gone inside to use the bathroom and get a drink. It looked like Phineas had needed some space anyway, so it worked out for both of them. Or so Ferb had thought. He couldn't believe how stupid, how incredibly _idiotic _he had been. He had left his brother for an infinitesimal space of time, and the moment he had left trouble had started.

So now here he was, freaking out inwardly with Candace right beside him freaking out _outwardly _and distracting him as he tried to give the 911 operator their information. "Look, Candace, you should probably call mother. She'll freak out worse than you are if she comes home to sirens and flashing lights." He wasn't used to speaking this much, even to Phineas. But his sister needed to calm down and he needed to get the police here as soon as possible, and he was willing to talk himself hoarse to do so.

Candace looked at him with huge eyes, her face drained of all color. He had no way at all of knowing what was going through her head, but he had the feeling that she knew a little bit more than he did. She nodded her head meekly, her bottom lip trembling, and got out her phone. Her mom was on speed dial and she answered after the second ring.

"Candace? Look, honey, I'm sure the boys have made something extra wild and exciting this time, but I really don't have time-,"

"Mom, can you please just come home?" Candace sounded meek and scared. But then, maybe that was good. It made her mom listen better than shouting ever would. "Something happened – i-it's about P-Phineas – please – listen, w-we just need-,"

"I'm on my way." She sounded determined and more deadly serious than Candace had ever heard, but she also knew that underlying tone of panic in her voice all too well. She was terrified. Of course she was, no mom in their right mind wouldn't be. Candace definitely wasn't looking forward to telling her family – or the police for that matter – just exactly who had kidnapped her little brother. _Ohmigosh ohmigosh omigosh, my little brother is gone. He was taken. I can't believe I wasn't watching him better, he was my responsibility and that – that _monster_ just snatched him right out from under my nose. I can't-_ Stop that. Candace shushed her own mental rant and tried to calm down. She still had another little brother to take care of, and even though he wasn't showing it, Ferb must have been going bonkers right about now. She breathed in slowly and then released it. Did it again. "Ferb?" She asked, hesitant. At least her voice wasn't the high-pitched terrified tone it had been before. She went on with determined calm. "How soon are the police going to be here? Did they say?"

Ferb nodded, then held up ten fingers to indicate ten minutes. He looked solemn and paper-white. "Ten minutes? Okay." She said. Then, after what seemed like an eternity of pacing, but was only about six seconds, she added "I guess I'll call dad now too." She needed to do something. Her dad answered before the first ring was over.

"Candace? Your mother called saying you called about something to do with Phineas and that you sounded really scared. You said something happened to Phineas? What happened? Is he hurt? Is Ferb hurt? Did you call 911 yet? Is it a 911 situation?" He finally stopped speaking. Then after a bit of an awkward pause in which Candace attempted to sort out everything he'd just said, he added, "Well?" probably a bit more harshly than he had meant to.

"Sorry! I was trying to sort all that out. Yes, Ferb called the police and they're going to be here in about ten minutes. Ferb is not hurt at all. Phineas has been kidnapped, dad, not hurt, but I looked out my window and saw it happening right after I heard him scream, and it sounded like he was hurt, not scared. But I don't think he was hurt too bad!" She added quickly, she didn't want to worry him any more than absolutely necessary. "He put up a really good fight against the creep that had him, and I doubt with the way he was fighting that he was too seriously injured." She stopped waited for her dad's reply.

The silence between them seemed to stretch, become more, become _tangible_, until Candace thought it might physically hurt her if he didn't speak up soon. Finally, finally he spoke, and Candace let out a breath that she didn't know she'd been holding. "A man took my son? Hurt him, and then just took him?" It would have been so much better if he had been shouting. This – whatever this was – was beyond any sort of anger she'd ever heard before. He was absolutely _livid._ She swallowed. "Yes." In her minds eye she saw him clench his jaw and grip his phone for just a split second, or maybe the steering wheel, possibly closing his eyes for a second, face drained of all color. "I'll be there soon." He said, sounding a little bit strangled, and promptly hung up. Candace hoped he paid attention to the rules of the road, but in a mood like this, it was highly unlikely. And though she didn't blame him one bit, she wasn't looking forward to telling him exactly who it was.

A siren sounded fairly close by. _Thank goodness_, she thought, _they're almost here_. She continued to pace silently, giving Ferb side-long glances with every turn around. The poor kid. He had seen it actually happen.

Ferb simply couldn't get his mind around the fact that Phineas was missing. Hopefully – if all went well – he would never have to. He could hear the sirens getting closer and closer, until finally they were almost impossibly loud, and finally they stopped. He felt himself shaking from nerves; he would have to give the police all the information, he realized. Suddenly, he found himself wishing his parents were there; it would be so much easier if he only had to explain this once.

The police outside knocked on the door, and Candace immediately yanked it open. "Come in." She said, her words clipped and short. Ferb was able to breathe a sigh of relief soon after that as Linda practically sprinted inside, Lawrence hot on her heels. The latter had his jaw clenched and his lip pursed in a thin line. His face was drained of any color and his eyes looked deadly serious. Basically, he was angrier than Ferb had ever seen him. This did not make Ferb feel any better about leaving Phineas alone; if he hadn't, Phineas would be safe at home instead of with some creep taking him goodness-knows-where to do goodness-knows-_what_ with him. He took a deep breath and stepped towards his parents and sister, not entirely sure of what to say to any of them.

"Ms. Flynn?" One officer ventured, stepping forward towards Linda. She looked up at him, eyes rimmed with red. "We would like to ask you a few questions about your son please."

"He didn't run away, in case you want to know." Candace had to say it, now, before she lost her nerve. "He - he was kidnapped. I saw the man that did it, and I know who it was." She stopped, afraid to go on. She licked her lips and looked around at her family, all of whom were staring at her with shocked and confused expressions. She gave her mom an apologetic look before continuing. "His name is Leroy Cole-" Linda gasped "And he's Phineas's biological father."

**(a/n)And thus ends chapter four. Sorry, I know it's boring. But, ya' know. Stuff. Meh. Until next chapter!**

**PS: I know the reactions are cliché or cheesy, but these are actual reactions of my actual parents when 1. My brother drowned 2. My brother went missing. 3. I called to tell my dad that my brother had been hurt. So yeah.**


	5. Meeting Kirby

**(a/n) Things are just going to lay low for a while, nothing dramatic and/or exciting for a little bit. Sorry, but I really can't think of anything for the moment. But eventually excitement will come back! Promise …? Oh, and I lost a bet. OC time – of her choice of course. Meh. Totally unplanned, but yeah… sorry if you totally hate it, but I can't do I whole lot about it. I'll stop making bets. I've learned my lesson.**

Phineas groaned. He was awake, but the last ting he wanted to do was open his eyes. His head ached, his chest throbbed, his shoulder felt awful, and his tongue was so swollen and dry he thought it would crack if he tried to sleep. Had he been sick? He couldn't remember, and the fire in his shoulder was driving any other thought from his brain. He groaned again and opened his eyes. His room was filthy – wait, no this wasn't his room. The memories of the previous day came rushing to him with the velocity of a speeding bullet, and he scrambled to his feet wildly, all defenses up. He instantly regretted it; the movement seemed to drive an unseen railroad spike through his shoulder. He gasped in pain as the movement brought tears to his eyes and forced him to his knees.

"Are you hurt?" A concerned voice said from somewhere beside him. He whirled, (causing another dagger in the shoulder), fearing it might have been the creep that called himself Phineas's father, but even before he saw who it was, Phineas knew it wasn't him; the voice was too innocent, not to mention too high. He looked toward the source: a little boy, maybe seven or eight, was standing in the door. Phineas was more confused than ever. "Who are you?"

The kid gave him an attempt at a smile that looked more like a grimace. "It's a long story. But are you hurt?" Phineas looked him over warily, decided that even if he wasn't safe, as a little kid he couldn't do much damage anyway, and nodded once briefly. "Okay, just hold still for a second. This'll hurt, but it'll get better. Where does it hurt?" He replied, coming towards him and plopping down on the bed beside Phineas.

"My left shoulder. But I'm not really comfortable with-" The boy had already stood up to stand in front of him and began probing his shoulder with thin, little fingers. Phineas gasped as stars popped in front of his eyes. Then the child balled his tiny hand into a fist, placed it under Phineas's armpit, grabbed his arm with his other hand, and pulled his arm outward away from his body. Phineas was dizzy with pain; he bit down hard on his fist to keep from crying out. Then, just like that, it reduced to a dull ache. He took his fist out of his mouth, shocked, and gave his shoulder a few test rotations. It was still a little sore, but he could move it. "Thanks." He said, and meant it. "So who are you?"

"You're Linda Flynn's kid right?" Phineas nodded. "Then – if my mom is right anyway – you should be my half-brother. And if I were you, I wouldn't mess with that shoulder too much for a while. It was out of socket for quite some time, and it could pop out again at any second."

The advice was completely unnecessary; Phineas had dropped his arm the moment the boy had said 'half-brother.' "Let's go back to the part where you called yourself my half-brother. What, exactly, did you mean by that?"

The child smiled. "I was dropped off at Leroy's doorstep"- Phineas assumed Leroy meant the man that had kidnapped him- "When I was a baby with a note pinned to my bib from my mom that said 'I can't be sure, but I'm pretty sure this kid is yours. Take care of him.' I don't know my mom or birthday, or even if my dad is actually my dad. He named me Tobias, but now I'm called Kirby by everyone I know because of a vacuum cleaner incident a long time ago. So, I'm Kirby Cole, probably your brother." He looked up at Phineas like he expected him to say something.

"Um – er – c-cool." He tried. "I always thought I just had the one brother." Phineas thought of Ferb, and of his terrified face the last time he had seen him, and for the first time since any of this craziness had happened, he thought about how frantic his family must be by now. If the man – Leroy – had been telling the truth about being Phineas's dad, Candace would be able to identify him. If she even saw anything.

"Um," Kirby began awkwardly, "I'd leave you alone, but this is my room, and my dad just told me to come here. I'll go in the closet, though, and give you some privacy if you want."

Phineas smiled at him, at his sincere and innocent kindness. "No, that's okay. I think I do want to go to sleep though, if you don't mind."

"Not at all, you take the bed." He replied, hopping up. Phineas was too tired to argue that the younger one should get the bed; instead he flopped down and covered his face with the pillow.

In fact Phineas wasn't tired at all, and his plan was to stay up and think of a way out of this place. But the moment he hit the bed, his eyelids began to droop, and the last thought he had before dropping off was how funny it was that he had another brother.

**(a/n) Okay, so I'm slowly learning my story is cliché. Sorry about that. And sorry about the ending, it was quite rushed. And about the OC, it's my little brother's OC and the bet with my friend… Yeah. Next update won't be until Wednesday or later though because I'm going out of state. Until next time!**


	6. Clues

**(a/n) Thank you so much, all of you that reviewed. I'm glad (and a bit relieved) at the reaction to Kirby. As to his name. Kirby is a brand of vacuum cleaner. You guys should review with suggestions about what to do with him! That would be fun.**

"Ten-year-old Phineas Flynn has been missing for 24 hours now, despite many leads and officers' frantic attempts to find the boy." The news reporter said. A gigantic picture of the boy flashed on the screen, grinning toothily for the camera, alongside a picture of Leroy, much younger but still somehow the same. "Here is a picture of the boy, along with the man believed to have taken him. If you have any information, call the number on the screen." A number appeared on the screen just under Phineas's picture.

Officer Brian Fountain sighed and squeezed his temples, thinking. He wasn't new at police work, but typically investigating kidnappings was left to the others; the more experienced officers, that is. It had been more than 30 hours since he'd slept, and his coffee was sitting cold and forgotten on the table in front of him. He shut his eyes and thought hard. What did they have? They knew for a fact that it was a kidnapping; there was absolutely no question about that. They also knew who it was, but for some reason, they simply couldn't find any information on a 'Leroy Cole.' It might also help if they knew the motive; maybe then they could determine how much danger Phineas was really in. The boy's sister – Carly, Katie, what was her name? - didn't seem to think his dad would kill him, but she had said that there was a good possibility of Leroy trying to hurt him, possibly even taking it 'too far.' Too far? What did that even mean?

Brian sighed. Something else was there, nagging at the back of his mind, something he had missed. He took out the picture of the boy, examining it closer than he had before. Perhaps he had missed something there. But it was just a bland picture of an otherwise cute little kid with a grey background. Nothing. What about the picture of the man? He pulled it out and compared them side by side, looking for some detail he had missed, or perhaps only glanced over. He knew it was here. He looked at Leroy, relaxing in a lawn chair in the shade of the house with a beer in his hand, grinning dopily at the camera. Familiarity screamed at him from somewhere in the recesses of his brain, but he couldn't find out where. He picked up his coffee to take sip – maybe that would clear his head – only to spit it out again. Ice cold and disgusting. If only Maurice's coffee shop was open at this-

The house! How could he have been so stupid! He himself drove by that stupid run-down piece of property every single day on the way to Maurice's coffee shop. If Leroy still lived there, if he had brought the kid there, then this could be faster and easier than he thought.

But wait. It was highly unlikely that the man still lived there. And even if he did, it was even more unlikely that he would have brought the boy there, if he considered for a second that maybe his ex-wife and daughter might remember where it was and tell the police. Would he be stupid enough to stay there, even take the kid there? Goodness knew. Of course, he was stupid enough to kidnap his own kid in the first place. And even if he wasn't there, that was a risk the police would have to take. Every other lead had led to a dead end so far, and what was the harm in trying? He picked up his phone to call his boss. It rang three times, then Officer Quinton Collins answered with a groggy; "Hello?"

"Hey boss, I think I found something on the Flynn case." He said quickly, fully awake now that this new idea had come into his mind.

"Really?" Quinton answered, with enthusiasm (that was bordering sarcasm.) "I'll call a meeting first thing tomorrow then." and hung up.

Brian sighed. At least the boss-man had listened. He knew that none of the other officers had much hope in this case, especially after all the dead end. Most missing children cases didn't end well, especially ones that involved kidnapping.

"Daddy?" a little voice said from behind him. He turned around to face his three-year-old son, smiling, who in turn pouted up at him, clutching his teddy bear to his tiny torso. "I had a bad dream. Can you come sleep with me to protect me from the monsters?"

Brian smiled again, looking down at the small boy. He had done enough worrying tonight, and there was going to be a meeting in the morning about what he had discovered. This case could wait until then. "Sure thing, Jackie." He answered, scooping the toddler into his arms. He took Jack back to his room, where he laid him down in his racecar bed. He stepped over the dinosaurs and books as he went to turn out the light, making a mental note to clean his son's room tomorrow. Then he crawled into the bed beside Jack, putting a protective arm around him as he lay down. The little tyke was already asleep, snoring to hopefully more pleasant dreams. Brian chuckled to himself, giving little Jack a whisper of a kiss on the top of his head. As much as he hated to say something like this, he was glad it was Phineas, not his own son, that he had to worry about.

He snuggled the snoozing child closer to him as he thought this, waves of exhaustion washing over him as sleep depravity caught up to him.

**(a/n) Suckish, kind of rushed ending. But yeah. There's chapter six! Review please. Also I'm a little sleepy because I busted my head and dislocated my shoulder on the trip I took this weekend. I was fun. Not. See you next chapter!**


	7. Blame, doubts, regrets, and questions

**(a/n) Can't really think of anything to say. I'm sure I will by the end of this chapter, but as of this moment, not so much. So yeah. Lawrence and stuff.**

Lawrence gripped his hair in frustration and worry, bald patches just barely starting to form on either side of his head where he had done this same thing at least a thousand times in the duration of the past three days. Three days. Three whole days, his son had been gone, and they were nowhere near 'closer' to finding him. Closer. That was what the police kept saying, but what did they mean? As far as Lawrence was concerned, they were a billion miles away until Phineas was safe at home again, lighting up the entire house with his smile and filling it with his chatter. Lawrence had never realized how _quiet_ everyone could be.

That's all this house was anymore. Quiet. Only broken occasionally by Linda's quiet sniffles that she tried so hard to hide. Ferb was angry, angrier than Lawrence had ever seen him. Of course, he didn't see him nearly as much as he used to, as Ferb typically kept to his room anymore. But on the rare occasion when they forced food down their throats 'as a family' (that was bull, they wouldn't be anything close to a decent family until Phineas sat there with them), he had been tight-jawed, white-faced, and quieter than ever.

Ferb blamed himself. He thought he could have stopped that crazed man, or that he shouldn't have gone inside, leaving Phineas alone.

Linda blamed herself as well, for never telling Leroy, for not being home when he came, for not sensing her child was in danger.

And naturally, Candace blamed herself, because she was the one 'in charge' when Phineas had been taken. She had decided she wasn't watching them well enough.

Basically, everyone had been playing the blame game with themselves ever since the kidnapping, but Lawrence knew they were being stupid. Ferb had to go to the bathroom; nobody would think 3 minutes could possibly matter that much. Anyone would have done the same. And Lawrence didn't want to even begin to think of what could have happened had Ferb tried harder to stop him. As for Linda, well, Lawrence didn't blame her one bit for not informing Leroy. That bastard didn't deserve the joy of children, not if he was willing to hurt them, scare them, take them away from the only family they've ever known. And neither of them were home, that's the way it usually was, and there was no sense in blaming yourself just because it wasn't different on a particularly bad day. And poor Candace, of course it wasn't her fault. Everyone knew the boys were fairly independent and they preferred to be left to themselves. Any other person would have left them alone.

Yes, all of them were being incredibly stupid, because Lawrence knew that the blame fell on him alone. It was his fault for staying late at work that day – could a few minutes have helped Phineas? – his fault for not protecting his son as he should have, his fault for not telling the kids to stay safe right before he had left that morning, as he always did, his fault for – for… And right there was where he ran out of reasons, even though he felt like there should have been about a billion more, because he knew it was his fault. It was the only thing in the world he didn't question at this point in time.

He did question his ability as a father to protect his family. He questioned Candace and Linda's safety. He questioned Ferb's sanity, and had the sinking suspicion that everyone else did too. He questioned his current relationship with Ferb, which seemed to be fraying at the edges. He questioned Phineas's current condition; his health, his safety, even his life. He questioned many things, but the biggest and most looming by far was his relationship with Phineas. For the first time in his life, Lawrence wondered if Phineas had ever not thought of Lawrence as his dad. What if – and he swore he would never voice this out loud, even to himself – but what if Phineas grew fond of this man? What if, now that he had met his biological father, Phineas didn't want anything to do with Lawrence? And come to think of it, what about Candace? She called him dad, sometimes even daddy, but now he wondered if she meant it. She'd obviously had some sort of bond with her dad, seeing as she had kept a picture of him all these years. What if she wanted to take sides with Leroy after all this was over? What if Phineas did? Could Lawrence really blame either of them? It was their flesh-and-blood dad, after all, and nothing could really replace that.

Lawrence mentally slapped himself. He was their dad. Nothing could take that away. He was their dad, and he always would be …. Right?

**(a/n) ok I thought of some things to say! First of all, does it majorly bother anyone else that Lawrence's name is spelled wrong? Or maybe I have it wrong. Second, reviews have dropped in a major way, so I would love to thank all of you people that have continued the whole review thing. Third, tell me what you think! See ya!**


	8. Broken Glass

**(a/n) I am currently watching Phineas and Ferb as I watch this. I love this show. It's so silly…. =) Yay for animal translators. And thanks to all of you who reviewed. It was quite successful. Still have no clue what to do with Kirby. But oh well. I'll figure something out.**

_My mouth feels like clay_ Phineas thought, smacking his lips to get some saliva going. Leroy had given each of them a glass of water right before he had left, but that felt like hours ago. It probably was hours ago. Not to mention Phineas's foot was going numb since Leroy had roped him to the bed by his ankle and tied his hands tightly behind him in order to keep him from escaping so he "wouldn't get hurt." It was actually so he couldn't escape and go to the cops. He had done the same to Kirby on a cot that had been brought down from the attic. The seven-year-old was now sitting up on the bed, staring at Phineas and gulping every once in a while.

"We need to get out of here." Phineas told him, and Kirby shook his head. "Why not? I've been here for 6 days now, and I really miss my family." And he did. He'd never been this homesick in his in entire life. He missed his sister's constant talking; Kirby was far too quiet, and he definitely didn't want to talk to Leroy. He missed all the crazy times with Ferb, and this new brother of his only made it worse. He missed his mom like crazy, and wanted so badly to be held by her again. But mostly he missed his dad. He wasn't sure why, maybe it was because Leroy was making him miss his dad the same way Kirby made him miss Ferb, only worse because Leroy was awful, but he missed Lawrence so badly his stomach hurt. Or maybe that was from hunger.

Again, Kirby shook his head. "I've been trying to get out for seven years now dude. It's impossible. Any time I've gotten even close to even _loosening_ the ropes, Leroy came home. And got super mad."

Phineas huffed in frustration. There had to be some way out of here. Kirby was just being pessimistic. Phineas, however, was excellent at being optimistic, and at using his resources. So he closed his eyes and thought hard. What did they have? The nightstand did no good; he couldn't reach it even though he had a bunch of ideas. The bed was made of metal; maybe the metal was sharp enough to cut through the rope? No, it would have done that already with all the moving around he was doing. He needed a sharp edge, something that could cut, like-

Broken glass! That was it! If he could get to the glass on the floor in front of him, he could break it, and that might get a piece big enough to saw through the rope. He sat up and scooted forward, reaching as far forward with his foot as he could to grasp the glass between his toes. He tried and it slipped and thunked to the ground. He tried again, this time gripping harder, and almost got it up. It slipped at the last minute and clanked to the ground again. He huffed and tried a third time, and this time when he felt it slipping again, he thrust it downward, giving it momentum, so that when it hit, it shattered. Yes! It worked! He looked past his legs to find a piece that would cut, and saw the perfect shard. About 2 inches, jagged at the end, razor sharp along the edges. He reached for it with his foot again, and drew back with a gasp. He had cut his foot. But of course he did, he was trying to pick up broken glass with it. He gritted his teeth, hard, and grabbed it with his toes again, ignoring the pain it caused him. He brought it up and saw a problem with this plan; he had nowhere to put the glass shard, and he definitely couldn't reach it with his hand. He brought it to his mouth and put it between his teeth, biting hard to keep it there. Laying down again, he rolled over and spat it out approximately where his hands had been a few minutes previously. Then he rolled back into a sitting position and began feeling around for the piece of glass. He finally found it, slippery with his own blood, and gripped it tightly to begin sawing. He twisted his wrist upward until he thought it would snap, then he began sawing as best he could, gritting his teeth against the strain it was putting on his tendons. He could feel it sliding with every move of his hand; it was sweating badly from the effort. Finally, after a million years, he felt something give and he could bring his arms upward. They were free! He brought his hands to his front to begin sawing the rope that restrained his leg, and noticed that his hands were covered in blood. He hadn't felt it, but apparently he had cut his hand. He huffed – he seemed to be doing a lot of huffing lately – and began sawing through the rope right on the ankle, ignoring his bleeding hand. He finally got it off and, after shaking a bit of life back into his foot, got up to help Kirby get untied.

"You're nuts," the kid said, but helped Phineas loosen the knots around his wrist and ankle. "If Leroy comes back and catches us, or if he doesn't and searches for us and finds us, he'll get really mad." He told him as they climbed through the tiny window that Phineas probably wouldn't have been able to fit through six days previously.

"Well then," Phineas told him "if you're so scared of him getting angry at you, you can climb back through that window and wait for him to come home like a good boy." He turned around and made his way to the wooded area behind the house, and the pitter-patter of footsteps behind him told him Kirby had chosen to follow.

Phineas got inside that first line of trees and began walking when he realized he'd forgotten to get his shoes, which Leroy had taken off and put by the door to discourage escape. But as Phineas really didn't want to go back, he sighed and turned around to ask Kirby which way the city was. He pointed in the direction Phineas had been intending to move, and they started off, keeping to the edge of the tree line and peering out every so often to make sure the road was still in view.

It was nightfall before Phineas got to the outskirts of the city, and even though they had left at roughly 6:00 in the evening, it felt like an eternity. His hands burned, his shoulder ached, his feet felt mutilated, and he was getting dizzy from lack of food or water. Or maybe both. He would frequently look back to make sure he hadn't lost his little brother – he had grown fond of the little rugrat – and to make sure he was still following the road.

So he was ecstatic when he was the glow of city lights finally fell upon them. They were now so close he could feel it. Only a little bit longer and he would be home again with his real family, back inventing stuff with his brother. Thoughts of his family gave him renewed energy, and he marched onward with a new spring in his step. They were almost home!

**(a/n) Well that's chapter 8. Phineas is like a little MacGyver. I love that kid. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! And don't think it's too convenient for them just yet. Because it's not. I promise. Bye now!**


	9. Arrest

**(a/n) So. Um… Yeah. Chapter 9. Cool. Enjoy!**

Brian Fountain was nervously chewing his fingernails. They – he and every other officer on the Flynn case – were headed straight to the house from the photograph in no particular hurry, though Brian personally thought they should have all sirens on, speeding towards their destination like they never had before. For some reason, he was nervous, the kind of nervous that seemed to chew on your insides. Well, why shouldn't he be? This was his first kidnapping case. What if they came upon a dead kid? What if this turned into a body recovery case? He hated the idea of having to knock on the parents' door and tell them they had just lost the child that the police had promised they had been so close to finding.

But that wouldn't happen. Candace – he had finally learned her name – had said Leroy probably wouldn't kill the kid. Even if he was hurt, it was probably a quick hospital visit, a cast or a sling, and then home. Of course there was the 'too far comment Candace had made, but nobody would ACTUALLY kill his own child, would he? He had (almost) no reason to be nervous.

They pulled up into the driveway of the house Brian had passed a million times without thought, the house that now meant everything, and quickly and quietly surrounded any possible exits while the Bossman sprinted to the door and demanded that Leroy Cole come out with his hands up and empty. They waited, barely breathing, for what seemed like hours, and finally the door slammed open. Out came a stumbling drunk, giggling dopily and swaying where he stood – Leroy Cole. "Y-you come vor thakid-d, - P-Phin-ee-ash - ride?" He slurred. "Well, guud-dlug!"

Guud-dlug? What? Oh - Good luck! What did he mean good luck? The dawning comprehension turned quickly to dread as Brian's stomach sank all the way to his feet and he felt his fingers go numb. Did that mean he'd actually killed his own kid? He listened to the Bossman's seemingly muted voice through ringing ears as he listed Leroy's rights and arrested him for kidnapping, and then to Officer Ryan Elberg stating that the boy was nowhere to be found, despite the fact that this definitely was the man that kidnapped him. Were they too late?

Half an hour later, the Bossman was in the 'interview' room grilling Leroy – who wasn't talking – with himself, some other officers, the entire Flynn-Fletcher family (minus Phineas), and a psychiatrist on the other side of the double-sided mirror. The psychiatrist was supposed to be able to tell if Leroy was lying. But Brian didn't care about that. All he could look at was the child's family. His mother was nervously chewing on the back of her fist, staring at her ex-husband in the other room. There were worry lines in her face and around her red-rimmed eyes that looked bottomless, and her hair was frayed and tangled. The older sister – well, the poor girl looked twice her age. Her pale, drawn face and thin, pinched body showed how much weight she had lost due to stress. The brother – Brian hadn't seen him before – was looking at the man with a stone-cold, unforgiving expression, his pale face showing worry to the point of fright. The dark circles under each of their eyes showed how little sleep the loved ones had been getting. But the dad, Lawrence, was who stuck out most in Brian's mind. His jaw was clenched tightly, his face set and white. His eyes were filled with anger, and he seemed barely able to restrain from diving through the window and attacking the man. He was holding his wife close to him gently and tenderly, but the hand he had clenched on his son's shoulder was clamped so hard it had to hurt the kid. His back was completely rigid, and the few times he had spoken – most of the time it was to curse the man who had kidnapped his son - his voice was low and intense.

Brian turned his attention back to the Bossman's lack of success with Leroy. Officer Collins was beginning to get incredibly frustrated him, and the tendon jumping in his neck showed that he was about to snap. When he spoke again, it was through gritted teeth, "I'll ask you one more time – where is Phineas?"

Leroy finally made a sound, but it was the wrong sound for this situation. It was a low, mirthless chuckle that made Brian's blood run cold. He heard Linda moan softly under her breath – a hollow, empty sound that told Brian she was thinking the same thing he was. "I killed the brat."

Four words. The world seemed to fall apart at those four words. Brian heard the most anguished, enraged scream he'd ever heard in his life, and he was shocked when he looked over and discovered that it had come from the brother. He had thought the child was mute. Candace seemed to lose color at an alarmingly fast rate, and she seemed to crumple in on herself, a sob escaping her as she hit the ground. Linda moaned louder and leaned against her husband, who had tears flowing down his face which was contorted with rage and grief. He wished more than anything to be able to help, to reach out and take the pain away from this hurting family, but he knew from the experience of losing his wife that there was no helping this situation.

The green-haired boy turned and sprinted out of the room, and Officer Fountain sprinted after him, knowing that the last thing he needed was to do something stupid. When had caught up to him – it didn't take long – he wrapped his arms tightly around the child's skinny torso and held fast, speaking into his ear as he did so. "I know how bad this hurts, and I understand wanting to run, or wanting to hurt Leroy, but you need to know it's not the right thing to do right now."

"You don't! You don't understand!" He was British? The youngster struggled against Brian with all his might, but was finally forced to relent because he was almost hyperventilating from the sobs that racked his body. Brian turned him around to carry him in a more comfortable position and turned around to take him back to his parents. Lawrence was standing silently behind him, his eyes dead and empty. Wordlessly he held his arms out to take his son, and Brian placed the child in his father's arms. He sobbed into his shoulder with all his heart and Lawrence held onto him as if he was the most precious thing in the world.

And Brian knew exactly how he felt.

**(a/n) Sorry the ending was kind of abrupt. So obviously, Leroy lied. It will be explained. Until then!**


	10. Grief

**(a/n) Okay! So, I would like to thank all of you that reviewed this last chapter. Which were two people. One of which is XxInvaderXIzzyxX, the other DarkChao1663, and I offer my sincere thanks to the both of you for your faithful reviews over the course of this story and your honest opinions. But seriously, I don't want to sound whiney, and I know that some of you readers might not have a working review button ( I didn't at first) and not every chapter is going to get a lot of reviews, but just the one? Please review! Even if you hate it, go ahead and tell me. But tell me why so I can fix it, or not if I don't want to.**

The ride home was deathly quiet. Of course it was; there was nothing to say and the radio had been too loud, too cheerful, and they had turned it off. Phineas was never coming home; every hope they'd had when Leroy had been arrested was now demolished. Lawrence no longer felt the need to hurt this man so badly. He didn't doubt his relationship with Phineas. He didn't feel anything but the gaping whole left where his heart used to be, as if somebody had roughly scraped it out with a spoon, the pain of the ever-present absence of his son nearly crippling him. The worst part was that he knew better than to think it would ever go away; he wasn't even allowed that hope.

But he knew he couldn't stay in this state of misery. His family needed him, each of them equally. He glanced in the rearview mirror at Candace, who looked even more pale and drawn than she had before. Her red-rimmed eyes were like deep, empty wells and she was clutching her knees to her chest. His eyes slid over to Ferb, who looked just as dead as Phineas apparently now was. His entire body was limp, drained of any fight, strength, or color it had shown in the police station. His head rested against the window, bouncing with every bump, and his eyes stared at nothing with a lack of emotion that scared Lawrence. He tore his eyes away from his now-only son and braved a glance at Linda. She had her arms wrapped around her slender torso as if to hold herself together, as if she was falling apart at the seems. Lawrence wouldn't blame her; he certainly felt as though he was. Every bit of grief, misery, sadness, and hurt beyond what words could describe was clearly etched into her pale face, showing through every pore. She looked as though she had lived an eternity, a wearisome, terrifying eternity that had ended in tragedy. The three most precious things in his life now, and each of them was hurting worse than they should ever have to.

Lawrence had failed. He had failed Phineas as a dad, and that had caused the rest of his beautiful family to get hurt. He owed each of them an apology, and he knew it, but the thought of them shooting his apology down was more than he could bear. He knew they would, that even if none of them blamed him as they should, they would go through the motions of telling him it wasn't his fault. The knowledge that it was clawed at his insides and seemed to rise up in his throat like bile, sticking a lump there that he knew would make him break down – in front of his family that needed him to be strong – and start crying like he never had before.

They finally made it to the house that could no longer be called home and pulled into the driveway. Lawrence turned off the car, but nobody moved. It felt wrong to move, felt wrong to do anything that resembled normalcy in any way since so much was not right about any of their lives now. Then Ms. Garcia-Shapiro began making her way hesitantly yet hurriedly across the street – they had told her what was going on when Leroy had been arrested – ready to ask for information, and Linda got out of the car to go meet her. Candace followed suit, trudging inside to do something, but Ferb stayed exactly where he was. Lawrence looked at him, and an invisible blade of guilt painfully stabbed his gut. "Ferb, you need to get out of the car." Lawrence said as softly and as gently as he could.

"Why?" The child asked, and his voice sounded devoid of life, emotion, anything. He sounded like he no longer cared what happened, no longer cared if he lived or died, and Lawrence realized with a start that he might not. That had to stop.

He got out of the car and opened Ferb's door, causing Ferb, who had been leaning on the door with the entirety of his strength, to collapse sideways. Lawrence managed to catch him before his head hit the ground, but despite the fall, Ferb remained entirely limp in Lawrence's arms. That scared Lawrence worse than anything had yet. He reached over to unbuckle his son's seatbelt and lifted him out of the car, holding him close to him. He slammed the door shut with his foot and turned to walk toward Linda, who was now sobbing into Ms. Garcia-Shapiro's shoulder. The latter woman's expression was stunned and bleak, and tears were beginning to form in her eyes, but she still managed to pat her friend on the back in a vain attempt to comfort her. Lawrence put his arm around Linda's shoulders, whispering that they should go inside to Candace. He offered Ms. Garcia-Shapiro a small attempt at a smile and turned to go inside.

On his way he thought of how poor Mrs. Garcia-Shapiro would have to tell Isabella, who might take it almost as bad a Candace. The poor child had been frantic all week, unable to sleep and tearful, squeezing every drop of information out of them until it reached the brink of untactful. She had been out of her mind with worry, and when they had told her and her mom about the arrest, her face had lit up with hope. Now her mother was going to have to go inside and tell her that her best friend was never coming home, that they had lost Phineas forever. Lawrence, at least, could be grateful for the small favor of not having to tell them, not having to speak it out loud and see the reactions the news he had to tell cause.

He led Linda back into their room and sat Ferb down on the bed - he wasn't letting a single one of the three most precious people out of his sight anytime soon – and went back into the living room where Candace was sitting. "Come on sweetheart." He told her, and she got up to follow him to the bedroom. She sat on the bed in front of Ferb and looked him up and down, taking in his horrible state, and leaned forward to wrap her arms around him and hold him close. As Lawrence looked at them, he realized that Candace would no longer be calling her mother to complain about the boys doing something insane, they wouldn't be turning the garage up-side down or bringing monster trucks into the backyard anymore. Even if Phineas hadn't been the one coming up with all the crazy ideas in the first place, Ferb wouldn't have the spirit or heart if he tried. Candace continued holding Ferb for a while, until Linda muttered tearfully, "Come on. Lord knows we could all use some sleep," and she released him, not even arguing that it was only 8:30 in the evening, usually too early to go to sleep. However, these were definitely not 'usual' circumstances, and everyone began crawling into the king-sized bed, fully clothed and without brushed teeth.

Lawrence took his son in his arms and held him gently, lying down so that they might be able to sleep, if grief allowed it. Candace got under the covers, even though the weather was warm outside that night, and Linda, who was still silently crying, snuggled close to her. As Lawrence looked over his family, a fresh wave of guilt washed over him. He just couldn't see how their little ball of sunshine could just be gone. He couldn't bring himself to believe that even a man a sick and twisted as Leroy would actually kill his own child, especially after Candace had said she didn't think he would and Linda had agreed. They would have the best grasp on his personality, and it was rare that Linda misjudged anybody. But were they really wrong? Was Phineas really dead? Was it at all possible that the man had lied? Suddenly, with that last question, a new idea began to form in Lawrence's mind; Leroy had lied. He hadn't actually killed Phineas, he was still out there someplace. Hope, sparkling and wonderful, seemed to blossom in Lawrence's mind again. His son was still out there somewhere, maybe Leroy had hidden him elsewhere and he just needed to be found. Why Leroy had lied, he didn't know and only slightly cared to find out. Maybe he was still a little drunk at the time and thought he really had, or maybe he figured he should go all out in getting in trouble, or maybe he thought it would be funny to give everyone a good scare. But the point was he had lied, and Phineas was most definitely still alive, because Lawrence refused to accept any alternative. Maybe he should voice his thoughts? No, Ferb was already snoring lightly under his arm, and Candace's tired eyes were drooping. If he told them at all, it would have to wait until they were well-rested. And with happier thoughts of Phineas if not unhurt, at least alive circulating through his brain, he suddenly felt the weariness of the past few days catching up to him very quickly and causing his eyelids to droop drastically. Within a few seconds, he was snoring.

**(a/n) Okay. So I hope this chapter earns some reviews, even though I know it's kind of boring in a lot of ways. By boring I mean uneventful. But please tell me what you think!**


	11. At Last

**(a/n) Hi! Enjoy the chapter!**

Phineas felt that he was officially too worn out to be walking anymore. He had literally tripped over his own foot a second ago, and he had done it again just now. The scary part was that it didn't hurt now, only tingled a little on his scraped knees and palms, and the ground was so cool and his eyelids were so heavy that he just wanted to stay there and sleep. He saw a well-tanned little hand reach down right in front of his face, however, and knew he couldn't stay there. He had to find his family, or the police to take him to his family. And he knew he had to ask them to help Kirby, because he couldn't simply leave the boy to the foster system. So he grabbed Kirby's miniscule hand, wondering if the reason he was so tiny was because of malnutrition, and allowed himself to be helped up. He now understood why taking his shoes might have discouraged a person from attempting to escape and fervently wished he had had the foresight – and brains - to get them. His feet felt like raw hamburger meat.

He looked down into Kirby's large, green eyes and wondered at him. Sometimes, he seemed like a little kid, eager, stubborn, easily bored or distracted. Just another cute kid you might see at the store begging his mom for candy or pouting because he didn't get a toy. But other times, especially now that he was trying to encourage Phineas, you could tell he had had to grow up way too fast. He had a serenity that Mother Teresa couldn't match and he acted almost motherly toward Phineas when he felt incredibly discouraged. At this moment he was looking at him with an expression of deep concern, holding his hand as if to show support. "We've only got a little bit farther to go until we reach the police station. Then you can rest. Come on, I'll hold your hand if you want." As if to emphasize his point, he gave Phineas's hand an affectionate and encouraging squeeze. Phineas smiled at him, then looked ahead to keep walking.

"You know, I've been meaning to ask you. Leroy found out about you watching some news report that said you had won a spelling bee." Kirby said. "Only, the school year hadn't started yet. It was still summer. How had you competed in a spelling bee if it wasn't through your school?"

Phineas chuckled, then sighed. He had been wondering how Leroy had found out he existed for some time, but had never had the guts to ask. But something as stupid as this? He never would have thought. "It was through our local library. We heard about it and I figured I should try. I won, and got to go compete against other people from other counties in Pennsylvania, and I won."

"Congratulations." The cold, sarcastic voice came from behind them and sent chills down Phineas's back. He turned slowly to face whoever had said that, and saw a kid, about Candace's age, only bigger and scarier. He had lean muscles that definitely weren't fake, no shirt, and so many tattoos that they made sleeves. He had a sly smile that revealed a missing front tooth and sharp canines. The scar along his jaw line was pink and puffed out so that it looked like coral. He was leaning up against the brick wall of the building beside them, looking at Phineas and Kirby with a bored yet amused expression, like a cat playing with an old toy.

Phineas felt as though an ice cube had just slid to the bottom of his stomach. They were in the middle of the projects, surrounded by plenty of people who wouldn't mind beating up a couple of kids for money, even if those kids didn't have any. He felt Kirby grabbing desperately at his arm, now the helpless little kid again, and his brain snapped into action mode. He turned around to run from the hoodlum only to find another behind them, this one wielding a knife. Phineas gulped and backed away - right into the arms of shirtless guy. He cried out, startled, only to have a hand clamp around his mouth, and suddenly he was back in his backyard with Leroy trying to kidnap him. He felt panic welling up inside him, and he forced it back down, willing himself to stay calm and think. "You're gonna give us all your money, and then we're gonna teach you not to come through our territory. Got it?" Phineas tried to tell him that they didn't have any money and that it was an accident coming through 'their territory,' but the hand clamped around his face mad it impossible to do so and when he tried to speak, the man just held on tighter. He felt a blow to his gut that knocked all the air out of him and made stars pop in front of his eyes, and he did his best at doubling over, gasping for breath. Though he hadn't fully caught his breath, he attempted to struggle against the man pinning his arms to his side and almost instantly felt his should sliding out of its socket. Kirby wasn't kidding; it had separated or dislocated three more times since the first. He squeezed his eyes against the pain and continued to fight, attempting to kick out against the man in front of him, and finally the one behind him dropped him like a hot coal. He heard something in his arm snap, and then he felt it, and the pain made more stars pop in front of his eyes.

He heard Kirby's scared voice say, "We don't have any money. Please just let us go. We're just kids." And in response, one of the thugs chuckled without mirth. Phineas felt himself being lifted to his feet, and another blow hit him, from whom he did not know, and felt something warm and wet running down his face. He heard the sickening thud of knuckles hitting skin, and he knew Kirby had been hit too. He heard car tires somewhere nearby and looked around for the source of the sound, hopeful that whoever it was could help them. Just down the street he saw a police car and he felt a desire to laugh out loud. He must have at least been smiling, because Thug #1 grabbed the front of his shirt in his beefy hand and said, "What are you grinning at stupid?" Phineas pointed behind him to the police car, and he had the satisfaction of watching the man's eyes do wide. Whoever the other man had been, he had already seen it and taken of running. Some loyal friend. The one that had a hold of Phineas took off running after his partner.

He saw Kirby sprint past him in the opposite direction, toward the police car, and got up to run after him. He felt the pain in his arm and shoulder even more now, but he fought through it and stumbled after his brother. The squeal of tires signaled that the officer had stopped abruptly, and Phineas heard one of the doors open and a man's voice say, "You two alright?" Phineas nearly laughed; they were the farthest thing from alright, but the question would do for now. He stepped around the glare of the headlight so he could see their savior better and he saw a dark-haired man with a kind face looking over Kirby. The man looked over at Phineas and gasped. "Why don't you two boys get in the car? Do either of you need medical attention?"

He heard a no from Kirby, so he answered with his own, "Yes." The police officer looked him over as if he couldn't believe his eyes and helped him in the car. As they started out driving, the officer kept glancing in the rear-view mirror at Phineas. Finally he blurted, "Are you Phineas Flynn?" Phineas looked at him warily and nodded. "Geez, kid. I'm Brian Fountain and I've been working on your kidnapping case. We arrested Leroy earlier today, but while we were interviewing him, he said he had killed you and that's why we couldn't find you. I don't know why he would lie, but that's what he said."

It took a while for what the cop had said to sink in, but when it did, Phineas felt something akin to panic rising up inside him. "Did you tell my parents already?" He asked. He didn't want to begin to think of what that would do to his family, thinking he was dead. The cop looked back at him and said, "They were there for the interview. Leroy told them." Phineas groaned. His family thought he was dead. That definitely wasn't a good thing.

Apparently nobody else had anything to say, so it was silent the rest of the ride. They pulled up to a hospital, parking right by the emergency room entrance. Brian came around the side of the car and opened the door, gently pulling Phineas out and carrying him inside the doors. "Dude, I can walk." Phineas told him, but Brian shook his head. "If you're hurt too badly or if you've lost a lot of blood in your head, you could pass out if you try to stand. If you pass out, you may hurt yourself worse. You're already damaged merchandise; I don't want to return you to your parents more broken than you already are." Phineas thought that his mom and dad would just be happy to know he was alive, but he kept his thoughts to himself.

An hour later he was finally safe. He was separated from any other patients by a curtain, with his plastered arm in a sling. Mr. Fountain had gone with some of the doctors to call his parents, leaving him alone with Kirby. He still had no idea what he was doing to do with the kid, but he was glad that they were finally, finally safe. His parents were coming, Leroy was in jail, and for once a kidnapping had come with a happy ending. He looked at Kirby and grinned. "We're safe." He told him, and Kirby grinned back.

"Yeah," he said, then looked down at his feet. "I guess I'll be going into the foster system now. Still, it's better than Leroy."

Phineas said nothing. He didn't want to think about what would happen to Kirby when all this was over, but he certainly didn't think he should go into the foster system. Hopefully his parents would be able to sort it out. He knew he could couldn't. Speaking of his parents, he could here their voices getting closer to his bed. He jumped out of bed (as best he could since one arm was temporarily unavailable) and yanked back the curtain. The first thing he saw was his dad, his real dad, walking and talking to Brian, and he felt a warm and wonderful relief filling him. He ran forward to greet Lawrence, who had taken a sort of half step forward and then gone weak at the knees when he had spotted Phineas. Phineas attacked his dad in a hug that almost killed his shoulder and arm, but he didn't care how bad it hurt; all he cared about was the fact that he was now with his family, he was safe. Lawrence was holding him so tightly it hurt, and Phineas loved that. He heard Lawrence mumble, "Who's your friend?" and Phineas looked back at Kirby, whom he had momentarily forgotten.

"Kirby." He responded. He wasn't entirely sure how to go about explaining this situation to his dad. "He's Leroy's son." Phineas went on. "My half-brother." Lawrence gave Phineas a side-long glance then looked back at the dark-skinned boy sitting awkwardly by the bed Phineas had just vacated. He got up to go talk to the boy, setting down Phineas, who was immediately crushed in a double-bear-hug by his mother and sister. Linda was crying, and Candace was shaking, but when they broke apart and looked at each other, she was smiling bigger than he'd ever seen her smile before. He looked from one to the other, unbelievably happy that they were here and that he was being held by his real family once again. He frowned then, noticing that a very important someone was missing from this mix. "Where's Ferb?" He asked.

He heard an accented voice say, "Look behind you bro." and Phineas turned around to see his brother. His grin faded quickly when he saw him though and he said, "Dude, you look horrible." And Ferb did. There were dark, bruise-like circles under his blood-shot eyes, and he had definitely lost weight; his wrinkled clothes looked way too big and frumpy on him. His face was pale and sallow, making him look like he had just gotten over a very serious illness. But he was there and he was smiling, and Phineas had never been happier to see anyone in his life. He hugged Ferb tightly to him, and Ferb hugged back, wary of Phineas's hurt arm.

He let go and looked around at his tired, happy, and in Linda's case, tearful family. Lawrence had come back and was carrying Kirby, and Linda scooped Phineas into her arms as she stood. They made there way out of the hospital and to the car, a family once again.

**(a/n) Corny, I know. Not the last chapter, but the next one will be. Wow, I think this was my longest chapter. Second to last. PLEASE review, even though I'm a little scared to see what you think. Anyway. Oh, and there you are cmcrox11, the whole spelling bee explanation thing. So yeah. Bye!**


	12. A very short Epilogue

**(a/n) I am SO sorry for not updating for a while, my electricity was out for a few days, and then the internet took a few days to get going again after that. So this is the last chapter. Hope you enjoy it, sorry for making you wait. I promise I didn't mean to.**

One month later

"Hey Mom, is Jeremy coming over for the party? I need to know, because if he is, I have a special outfit picked out. If not, I can just wear my every day day-clothes, but I have some better ones picked out if he's coming. So is he coming?" Phineas scoffed and rolled his eyes over the breakfast table at Kirby. Candace had been worried about who was invited to Phineas's birthday party more than Phineas did, and while it was humorous for the three boys, it was causing a lot of irritation for their parents.

Linda sighed, "Yes Candace, Jeremy is coming to the party. But that doesn't mean you have to put on some special outfit, Jeremy likes you the way you are." But Candace had already dashed upstairs to change clothes. Ferb stifled his laughter behind his hand while Kirby smirked into his cup of orange juice and Phineas chuckled. A sudden hand on Phineas's shoulder made him jump about a foot in the air; he was still pretty jumpy after being kidnapped. But when he turned around, it was just his dad. "Can we talk?" He asked. Phineas shrugged and followed Lawrence into his bedroom, where the latter sat down on the bed and patted next to him as an invitation. Phineas sat.

It was a moment or two before Lawrence spoke, and when he did, he looked awkward. "So. You met your biological dad." Phineas made a face. "Well, what I mean is, do you thing you liked him okay?" Lawrence finally looked at Phineas, who was giving him the most incredulous look he'd ever seen.

"You're kidding right? Dad, he kidnapped me, dislocated my shoulder, tied me up, and left me there. Why would I ever like a guy like that?" Phineas moved to get up, but Lawrence gently pulled him back down again.

"Are you mad at me?" Lawrence continued, looking sideways at Phineas. When Phineas looked confused, he went on, "I mean, I'm your dad – if I'm your dad – so I'm supposed to make sure things like what happened _don't_ happen, and ultimately I failed, so I'm sorry, and I know I'm not your real dad or anything, so if you're mad or anything-"

Phineas seemed to understand what his dad was saying, and it was probably the most ludicrous thing he'd ever heard. Correcting his dad would no doubt be very awkward, but it had to be done. "Daddy." The word stopped Lawrence's ramblings. "You are my dad. Not Leroy, or anyone else, you. If anything, Leroy just made me miss you more. Nobody is ever going to replace you, so you definitely don't need to worry about that. And of course I'm not mad at you, what happened was not your fault. It wasn't anybody's fault but Leroy's. Things like this happen. Don't worry about it, everything's fine now." He smiled at his dad, and Lawrence chuckled. He looked like he wanted to say something else, but he remained silent as he pulled his son into a tight hug. He had been doing that a lot lately.

"Come on," He said as they heard the doorbell ring. "I think that's Brian and Jack." They got up to answer the door, and indeed it was Brian and Jack. "Happy birthday, kid." Brian said as he and his son entered the house. They remained in the living room, answering doors for guests as they came. Buford and Baljeet came in with the latter carrying everything, Isabella attacked Phineas in a 'birthday hug,' and Django waved shyly as he stepped over the threshold.

They all gathered around the table for the traditional round of 'happy birthday,' and as Phineas sat himself down at the head of the table in front of wonderful birthday cake Linda had made, Lawrence couldn't help but smile at him. Yes, he thought to himself, Phineas is definitely my son.

**(a/n) The end! It was short. Sorry. But yea. Also, if any of you would like to know, Django is my favorite one of Phineas and Ferb's friends, even if he isn't one of the main characters. I think he's a cutie.**


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